


"Promise that You'll Write?" "Only if You'll Write Back"

by i_am_still_bb



Series: Gathering Fiki - 12 Days of Christmas (2020) [2]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Epistolary, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_still_bb/pseuds/i_am_still_bb
Summary: Jim and Ross meet while studying abroad in Amsterdam in 1993. They write to each other over the following years. While they never manage to meet up their relationship continues to deepen. Then Jim sends Ross a letter that says nothing other than"No More Excuses"and contains a plane ticket and a train ticket.
Relationships: Jim Hawkins/Ross Poldark
Series: Gathering Fiki - 12 Days of Christmas (2020) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048309
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9
Collections: GatheringFiKi - 12 Days Of Christmas 2020





	"Promise that You'll Write?" "Only if You'll Write Back"

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Gathering FiKi's 12 Days of Christmas 2020.
> 
> Inspired by this _gorgeous_ photoset!

**Amsterdam, Netherlands  
** **June 23, 1993**

“Promise you’ll write,” Ross says, handing over a sticky-note with the address to his university flat neatly written on it.

“Only if you write back.” Jim’s address is scrawled on a corner of notebook paper with ragged edges.

Jim pulls Ross into a quick, brief hug. Then they go their separate ways. Each to a different gate to take a plane home; Ross back to England and reading Mechanical Engineering at Oxford and Jim back to the University of Maine for his final year majoring in Natural Resources Management and Conservation. 

* * *

_Oxford, England  
_ _June 27, 1993_

_Dear Jim,_

_I hope you had a safe journey home._

_It is strange not having you down the hall from me. I had gotten used to harassing you at odd hours. Now I have to settle for pen and paper._

_I’m working for my father’s mining company over the summer. We’re hoping that we can make it profitable again. Not just for our own sake, but for the sake of the miners. He has me trying to find cost-cutting measures that won’t result in unsafe working conditions._

_I hope that you have a more exciting summer planned._

_Cheers,  
_ _Ross_

* * *

_Belfast, Maine  
_ _July 10, 1993_

_Ross,_

_The plane was loud and the flight was long, but that’s how it always is. I expected nothing less. We didn’t crash into the Atlantic, so it was safe enough._

_I had hoped that I could get some hiking in before fall semester, but Silver seems bound and determined to have me on_ _The Hispaniola_ _every waking hour. We spend most of our time in Penobscot Bay trawling for lobster. By the end of the month I’m going to be dreaming about burying my head in a book and never coming out again._

_Jim_

_P.S. I’ve included a photograph of me that you can rant at when it’s 3am and no one else wants to listen to you._

[Enclosed: A photograph of Jim wearing bright orange waterproof overalls and a grey t-shirt. His hands are covered in bait, but he’s smiling at the camera. The sky and sea behind him are overexposed.]

* * *

_Oxford, England  
_ _October 7, 1993_

_Dear Jim,_

_Projects are keeping me quite busy this semester. I’d tell you about my classes, but I don’t think that you want to hear much about engineering. It cannot be much fun to read equations when they’re not doing anything for you._

_Are you working on anything exciting this semester like that lobster shell disease project you told me about?_

_Do you remember that night we went out and Dwight got so drunk that he fell into the canal? He swears that it didn’t happen and that I must have been the drunk one? I’m hoping you’ll back me up on this one, even if you have to lie to do it. Dwight has a list the length of his arm of stupid things that I’ve done, but I can count things I have on him on less than one hand._

_Cheers,_

_Ross_

* * *

_Orono, Maine_ _  
_ _December 14, 1993_

_Ross,_

_It’s the end of the semester here and I’m packing up my things to head home for a few weeks, but I’d rather write you, but I don’t know what to say. My brain is full of information from Cave Ecology and autogenic water v. allogenic water is not that exciting._

_You should come for a visit next summer. I could show you actually mountains. I know that you think Scotland has mountains, but you’re wrong._

_Hope you have a good Christmas._

_Jim_

* * *

_Athens, Greece  
_ _March 3, 1994_

_Dear Jim,_

_Dwight and Caro convinced me to come along on their trip to Greece over our last mid-term break before graduation._

_Wish you were here._

_Ross_

[Enclosed: a postcard with a picture of Athens on the front and Ross’ letter on the back and a photograph of Ross looking sunburnt and windswept in front of the Parthenon.]

* * *

Belfast, Maine  
May 17, 1994

Ross,

I graduated! Now I have to figure out what to do with this degree. I’ve applied for a few jobs, but I haven’t heard back. For the time being I’m moving back home and I’ll probably keep working with Silver until something comes through. 

About that visit I mentioned? 

Jim

[Enclosed: a photograph of Jim standing between Rose, his mother, and Silver, his stepfather, and holding his diploma in its leather case. On the back in near handwriting, clearly not Jim’s, it says “May 7, 1995 - Jimmy graduates from Univ. of Maine, Magna Cum Laude.”]

* * *

Belfast, Maine  
June 20, 1994

Ross,

I haven’t received your latest letter if you’ve written one, but I just need to talk to someone. I still haven’t heard back from any of the “real” (Don’t let Silver know I said that. He’d have me on the street before I could even tie my shoes.) jobs I applied to. I shouldn’t say that I haven’t heard back. I have. But those jobs were my last choices. They’d require me to move far away from Maine. I don’t know if I want to do that yet. So I’ve been stuck here in Belfast working on the trawler all day and getting home so tired that I can barely shower before going to bed. 

And I don’t feel like I fit in anymore. That was probably true last summer as well, but it’s more obvious now when I’m not counting down the days to another semester. My friends who went to college never came back and my friends who stayed… Well, we don’t have much in common anymore. More than one of them has a kid. And I hate sitting talking about the latest box scores with someone who is just talking to me to avoid going home to their kid. 

Maybe I’m just too picky and should take the friends that I can get. 

It’s already been a year since we last saw each other. I can’t believe it.

Hope you’re well,

Jim

* * *

_Oxford, England  
_ _June 22, 1994_

_Dear Jim,_

_Can you believe that it’s been a year? It feels like longer._

_Sometimes I wish we could go back. With my final year approaching the future seems too close._

_Ross_

* * *

_Belfast, Maine  
_ _November 24, 1994_

_Ross,_

_Remember how I told you that it hasn’t been a great year for lobsters? It means that we’re still out on that damn boat_ _everyday_ _. And now it’s cold so the rain is freezing on the railing and when it snows the deck is covered in slush. I went to college so that I wouldn’t have to do this. I might have to consider taking one of those jobs in the middle of the country if nothing else comes my way soon._

_Hope you’re staying warm and dry,_

_Jim_

_P.S. We did catch a record breaking lobster last month._

[Enclosed: a photograph of Jim wearing the overalls and grease-stained sweatshirts holding a large lobster up by the claws.]

* * *

_Oxford, England  
_ _May 3, 1995_

_Dear Jim,_

_Remember how I mentioned a few letters back that I was looking into getting an M.Sc.? Well I got accepted. I did apply to some programs in the States. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up along with mine. I was disappointed enough when none of them gave me funding without having to let you down too._

_I start in the fall._

_I hope all is well with you._

_Yours,_

_Ross_

[Enclosed: a photograph of Ross, wearing his cap and gown, squinting into the sun.]

* * *

_Ontonagon, Michigan  
_ _July 13, 1995_

_Ross,_

_I took one of those jobs in the middle of the country. I can’t believe that I thought Belfast was small. The nearest Wal-mart here is over an hour away. Longer in the winter because of how much it snows here._

_I’ve been told that it will start snowing in October and it won’t clear up until April or May. And that getting anywhere can be a pain because of how infrequently the plows hit the smaller roads._

_I’m going to stick it out for a while, but the Great Lakes aren’t the same as the ocean._

_Yours,_

_Jim_

* * *

_Oxford, England  
_ _December 12, 1995_

_Dear Jim,_

_I hope you get this letter before Christmas, but with the amount of snow you said you got I am not that hopeful._

_I’m not sure that I made the right decision with this program. I haven’t slept properly since the term started. When I try to take a break I can’t stop thinking about what I should be doing. I keep having stress dreams about failing my coursework._

_I know that you’d help me relax if you were here._

_Yours,_

_Ross_

* * *

_Ontonagon, Michigan  
_ _April 29, 1996_

_Ross,_

_I finally have a moment to myself. The snows started melting a few weeks back and things started flooding because it was so warm and we had several feet of snow over the winter. Some of the roads were washed out, the visitor’s center was damaged, and there were down trees everywhere. It’s all been cleaned up now._

_I can’t believe that I feel like 60 degrees is warm. I want to lay out on my lawn without any clothes on and just soak it in._

_I think you’d like it here._

_Yours,_

_Jim_

[Enclosed: a photograph of Lake Superior with mist]

* * *

_Oxford, England  
_ _November 7, 1996_

_Dear Jim,_

_I’m sorry that I haven’t written in a while. My new program has kept me quite busy since the term started. I’m taking 3 courses and I’m the teaching assistant for another, which means that I get a fancy title for doing all the grunt work. Grading 100 undergrad mathematics exams is painful to say the very least. I don’t know how some of them managed to pass their A-levels to get into this program, but here they are, screwing up basic multiplication._

_I have the photograph of Lake Superior pinned above my desk. I find myself staring at it at the most inconvenient of times. Mostly when I should be grading said exams, but other times too. The water looks refreshing. Did you get to go swimming a lot when it was warm?_

_I’m going to try and convince my father to fund a trip after I finish this program and before I start working for real. It would be really great to see you again._

_Yours,_

_Ross_

_P.S. Since I’m jealous of the place you get to see everyday I am including a photograph of the street my department is on. I’m there more than I’m home some days._

[Enclosed: a photograph of a cloudy street with grey stone and neoclassical and Gothic revival architecture]

* * *

_Ontonagon, Michigan  
_ _March 25, 1997_

_I’ve taken up a new sport in this land of winter hell, or winter wonderland if you listen to my co-workers. They have dragged me skiing a few times since the new year. The first time I managed to sit in the lodge and get comfortably drunk beside the fire, but the second time they were having none of that. They put me on skis and all but pushed me down the damn mountain. Granted what they pushed me down was a baby hill, not even a real hill according to the maps, but it sure felt like a mountain of death at the time. I promptly fell down and they did it again. By the end of the day I had a bruise the size of a dinner plate on my ass and I couldn’t wait to go back. I’ve been several times since. If you visit when there’s still snow I am going to take you skiing. You have been warned._

_Yours,_

_Jim_

[Enclosed: a photograph of Jim wearing skis with jeans that have huge wet spots, and a tasseled hat.]

* * *

_Oxford, England  
_ _May 4, 1997_

_Jim,_

_I’m not going to be able to make it this June. I’ll write later and tell you why, but I’m too disappointed right now to put it into words._

_Yours,_

_Ross_

* * *

_Nampara, England  
_ _June 9, 1997_

_Dear Jim,_

_I’m sorry that my letters have been so short._

_I had my graduation ceremony a few weeks back, but things have been really busy for the same reasons that I mentioned in my last letter._

_My only real news is that I’ve been recruited by the Royal Engineers. I’ve joined up and I won’t be able to write until I’m through basic training._

_Yours,_

_Ross_

[Enclosed: a photograph of Ross in his M.Sc. regalia with his father.]

* * *

_Ontonagon, Michigan  
_ _June 18, 1997_

_I’m not sure what to say._

_I never thought that you’d join the army given what we talked about and our shared feelings about the Cold War and the Gulf War._

* * *

_Nampara, England  
_ _September 27, 1997_

_Dear Jim,_

_It felt like the best decision at the time and, honestly, it still feels right. I have two weeks off before I start officers’ training._

_I hope you’ll continue to write._

_Always yours,_

_Ross_

_P.S. I wasn’t sure if I should include this, but I decided that I would send it and if you didn’t want it then you could throw it away._

[Enclosed: a photograph of Ross on his graduation from basic training. He is wearing his uniform; brown jacket, green belt, and a black hat with red piping. His hair is very short and he is clean shaven.]

* * *

_Ontonagon, Michigan  
_ _January 1, 1998_

_Dear Ross,_

_I don’t know how to start this. I guess I’ll start with apologizing for not writing since June. There’s been so much that I’ve wanted to share, but I felt like I couldn’t._

_I have all of your letters. I’ve read them. They’re stored with the others._

_The photograph you sent is with all of the others on my wall._

_I guess the thing I want to say most is that I’m worried._

_Jim_

* * *

_West Sussex, England  
_ _March 2, 1998_

_Jim,_

_I’m being sent to Kosovo. I’ll write as soon as I can._

_Please don’t worry._

_Always yours,_

_Ross_

* * *

_Ellsworth, Maine  
_ _October 12, 1998_

_Ross,_

_I am relieved each time I have a letter from you in my mailbox. I pay too much attention to the news in the evenings. Despite what they say I still worry about you. I just hope that you’ll come home in one piece._

_I’ve moved back to Maine. I didn’t like being so far away from my mother especially after she had that scare last year. I’m only about an hour away now._

_I got a job as a park ranger in Acadia National Park. It was a long shot, which is why I never mentioned it. But I got it and now I’m back by the sea. But there is still skiing nearby, so don’t think that you’ll get out of that adventure. I can’t wait to see you fall on your ass._

_Yours,_

_Jim_

* * *

_Ellsworth, Maine  
_ _December 25, 1998_

_Ross,_

_I just got home from spending the holiday with my parents. I tried to focus on them, but you were never far from my mind._

_I haven’t received any letters from you since the one you sent in September if you’ve been sending them. At the best I think that I’ve said something that’s caused you not to write. And the worst… I don’t even want to think about it._

_I don’t think I’d ever find out if you were killed over there._

_Love,_

_Jim_

[Enclosed: a photograph of Jim’s driveway with pine trees bowed under the weight of snow. Christmas lights wink though the branches.]

* * *

_— — —, Kosovo  
_ _April 29, 1999_

_Dear Jim,_

_I’m so sorry about the situation with the mail. Some of your letters were being forwarded to my dad’s house. And I only found out recently when I was allowed to go home for a few days on leave. I’ll tell you about that some other time._

_I’m not sure what’s been happening to my letters. Maybe the censor is just keeping them, because I’ve been spilling state secrets right and left. I will just keep writing and hope that some of them will get through. I’m safe. We haven’t actually lost anyone._

_I hope everything is well with you._

_Tell me more about your new job and Acadia. I’d rather hear about your job than think about mine._

_Always yours,_

_Ross_

* * *

_Ellsworth, Maine  
_ _May 9, 1999_

_Ross,_

_I received the letter that you sent at the end of April._

_What happened back home?_

_Right now my job mostly consists of me telling hikers that they can’t try to climb mountains in shorts and t-shirts. It might be warm at the base of the mountain, but there is still visible snow on the mountains, and, SHOCKING, that means that it is cold at the peak. And even if there wasn’t visible snow they should still be prepared for the possibility. Growing up I always heard about hikers freezing to death on Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. It would be 90 degrees at the foot and 20 at the peak and then a freak snow storm would roll in and there would be white out conditions._

_Words cannot express how relieved I was to receive your letter._

_Love,_

_Jim_

* * *

[Written on Queen Alexandra Hospital letterhead]

_Portsmouth, England  
_ _July 8, 1999_

_Dear Jim,_

_I know you have probably seen the news by now. And I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay. I lost two men, and a few others were injured. I only have a scratch. I should be out of here in a few days._

_Always yours,_

_Ross_

* * *

_Ellsworth, Maine  
_ _July 15, 1999_

_Ross,_

_I did see the news and I am so glad to hear from you._

_Are you sure you’re okay? Am I allowed to visit?_

_Love,_

_Jim_

* * *

_Portsmouth, England  
_ _July 22, 1999_

_I am supposed to be discharged any day now. I would no longer be here by the time you arrived._

_Maybe some other time._

_Ross_

* * *

_Nampara, England  
_ _November 20, 1999_

_Dear Jim,_

_I’m sorry that I haven’t written. I just don’t know what to say. Things have been … off since I came back home. With my dad gone I’ve been figuring out how to run the estate, something that I thought I’d have longer to learn how to do. It feels wrong without him here and now that the holidays are approaching it feels even more strange._

_Francis and Elizabeth have invited me to spend Christmas and the New Year at Trenwith with them and their children. I don’t think I will. I think I’m just going to stay home and pretend that the holidays are happening this year._

_I was thinking about when we met the other day. Do you remember? I crashed into you while I was trying to ride that stupid red bike in the snow. You were bleeding, but refused to see a doctor._

_I can’t believe that it’s been nearly seven years._

_Much love,_

_Ross_

* * *

_Ellsworth, Maine  
_ _December 4, 1999_

_no more excuses_

[Enclosed: a plane ticket from Heathrow to Bangor on December 19 and a train ticket from Bangor, Maine to Ellsworth, Maine.]

* * *

There is more snow than Ross was expecting. He watches it rush by through the train’s windows. He has felt a little nauseous since he got off the plane in Bangor. He has not seen Jim in nearly seven years. He has received pictures, but that is not the same.

The train lurches to a stop.

Ross grabs his bag from the overhead rack and makes his way to the door. No one else is getting off from his car. When he steps down he glances in either direction and sees that he is less than a handful of people getting off here. 

The brakes hiss behind him.

He takes a deep breath and looks for Jim. 

Jim rises from a bench and raises a hand in greeting. 

When they are standing face to face Jim frowns. “You bastard. You said that it was a scratch.” He starts to raise his hand to touch the scar running down Ross’ cheek, but then lowers it. 

Ross ducks his head. “Sorry. I just didn’t want to worry you.”

Jim sighs heavily through his nose. “I understand.”

“C’mon,” Jim snatches Ross’ bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I hope you brought your walking shoes. My road rarely gets plowed and I just keep my truck parked off the main road that does get plowed and I walk most everywhere that isn’t work or my parents.”

“This is it.” Jim stops in front of his house with its covered porch and tall, narrow windows. 

“Do you have it all to yourself?”

Jim nods. “After living in shared accommodations in Michigan I wanted the quiet.”

“So there’ll be no one to hear you scream if I do _this_.” Ross’ voice rises in volume as he dashes away having just stuffed a handful of snow down the back of Jim’s coat.

“You dick!” Jim drops Ross’ bag on the ground and takes off after him.

The scuffle ends when Ross ends up with a faceful of snow in the falling dusk.

Ross dusts the snow from his jeans and laughs. “I think I need a drink to warm me up.”

Jim runs his hands through his hair and pulls his hat back on. “I’ve got a fireplace and whiskey.”

“That’ll do it,” Ross grins.

Jim gets the fire started while Ross drops his bag in Jim’s guest room and digs out a pair of sweatpants. In short order they are both sitting on the couch, feet up, with half-full glasses balanced on thighs and some quiet banter.

Two glasses later they are sitting silently side by side. 

Jim rolls his head to look at Ross, the fire casts warm, dark shadows on his face, “I really was worried about you.”

“I made it out okay.” Ross takes a sip from his glass

“Bullshit,” Jim says quietly.

Ross turns his head to look at Jim. “I still have all my limbs,” he gestures vaguely at his body. 

Jim swallows and looks away. “I… Fuck. I need a drink.” Jim rises abruptly. At the sideboard he pauses with the bottle of whiskey in his hand. He wishes that he was alone for a minute so that he could think, so he could gather his thoughts before he says something that will destroy all of _this._

Jim startles when Ross places his hands on Jim’s hips. Shivers when Ross’ breath brushes past his neck. Ross’ nose brushes Jim’s ear.

“Ross,” Jim breathes.

Ross drops his hands. “Sorry, I’m—”

Jim turns and grasps Ross’ wrist to keep him from stepping back. “Please don’t apologize.”

He cannot look at Ross’ face. The thought of doing it, the thought of what he might see there thrills him and scares him at the same time. He fixes his gaze on the dip of Ross’ collar bone. “But if you can’t… if you don’t… I… I’d rather you not say it outloud. I don’t think—”

“Jim.” Ross says softly. He lifts Jim’s chin with a finger.

Jim raises his eyes.

Ross’ slides his hand around from Jim’s jaw to curl in the soft hair on the nape of his neck. Ross’ gaze drops from Jim’s eyes to his lips.

“Ross?” Jim says on an exhale. His eyes are half closed and he is breathing through his mouth because he feels like he cannot _breathe_ otherwise. 

“I should have done this in the airport seven years ago, but I was too scared.”

Ross closes the gap.


End file.
